


Murders and Psychiatrists

by Spectacular_Geek_27



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood and Gore, Dark Steve Rogers, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Murderers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 12:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17508497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectacular_Geek_27/pseuds/Spectacular_Geek_27
Summary: In his 20 years of service as a Psychiatrist, Stephen had never encountered something weirder than the usual stories that his patients tells him. One time, his patient told him how he felt when he met his first love. Sounds normal, doesn't it? It would've if it weren't for the fact that his first love was actually a toaster.Yes, let that sink in for a moment. He's pretty much immune to it at this point.Unfortunately, being assigned as the personal Psychiatrist of the most notorious mass murdering psychopath ever known to America can actually tear his family apart.Quite literally, mind you.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

 

The fourth sigh of the day left Stephen's mouth when his client refused to tell him who -- _what_ \-- she sees at the end of her bed whenever she wakes up at three in the morning.

"I can't tell you," She heaved out, "He'll come after you then me!"

Stephen kept his expression calm and collected as he softly placed the pen and notebook on the coffee table.

He stared at her for a while before her misty eyes stayed on his.

"Ms. Carter, I can assure you that whoever's bothering you is no match for the police. It's much more practical to tell me who it is."

He watched as the woman's eyes widen in alarm then she started shaking her head.

She was in her mid-thirties but she's still good-looking and she would've found someone to spend the rest of her life with if it weren't for the fact that she was suffering from Schizophrenia.

"James will kill you!"

Ms. Carter's session with him started last week. Her cousin was generous enough to take care of her despite their family feud. He's a good man but it's sad that her cousin's name happens to be James.

"Your cousin?"

"What?"She blinked in disbelief, "Bucky isn't the bad guy here. He's not!"

Stephen nodded, "Of course not. He's taking care of you, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"He helps you with a lot of things."

The panic that bloomed inside of Ms. Carter's mind settled at the thought of her cousin, "Bucky is a very good man. He...helps me."

"Even with your medication I assume?"

Her demeanor suddenly closed off and Stephen raised an eyebrow at this.

"He told me not to drink it."

"Bucky?" His question was left unanswered, "James then?"

The woman lowered her gaze guiltily, "I'm sorry. H-He told me not to."

"That's unfortunate," Stephen took his notebook once more to write something, "I still require you to drink it though."

"I-I can't go against him."

"But you must."

"You don't understand, doc," She placed one of her hands on top of his notebook, "He has a...k-knife."

Stephen clutched her hand firmly for assurance, "Well, I have _three_ PhDs and I say you should take your medication."

The woman took in the expression he's wearing, "He'll go away if I do?"

"I'm positive."

Ms. Carter smiled at him weakly, "I'll be sure to hold onto that, doc."

Just then, Stephen's phone began ringing, indicating that his session with his clients are over for today.

He stood up and offered assistance to his patient.

"I guess I'll be meeting you again next week." Stephen walked her towards the door of his office, "I hope you refrain from neglecting your medication, Ms. Carter."

Her cousin was already waiting by the door when he opened it. He gave him a polite smile.

"She's getting there."

"I know," Bucky gave him a smile that looked like more of a grimace, "Thanks, doc."

Stephen bid them farewell and leaned against his door after closing it.

It's already Friday which means he has the whole weekend to him and his family.

It's also Tony's turn to cook dinner tonight.

 

* * *

 

It was already past six when Stephen got home. There wasn't much traffic today even though it's a Friday.

The psychiatrist made his way towards their kitchen where he found his husband already starting dinner.

Tony's back was facing him and since his favorite band's music was loud enough, he was able to sneak up on the other.

"Jesus!" The brunet startled when Stephen draped his form against his back. He felt his husband's chest rumble when he gave a deep chuckle.

"Sorry," Stephen wrapped his arms around him, "I just couldn't resist."

Tony snorted but leaned back, "No, you're not, asshat."

The other didn't answer but he proceeded to press open-mouth kisses on the brunet's neck.

Tony groaned and tilted his head to side with a smirk, "Someone's eager."

The answer he got was a hand wondering down to grab what's below his pelvis. He gasped at this and he couldn't help grinding his ass against Stephen's groin.

"Oh gross!"

The psychiatrist pulled away from his husband and turned around to smile at his son.

Peter's face was scrunched up, "Don't do that here. That's what bedrooms are for."

Tony also turned around with a huge grin, "Bedroom's not the only place you can do the **do** , Pete. That's why you must have a condom with you at all times."

"Dad!"

The brunet laughed at his son's expression, "I'm just messing with you, kid."

"Aren't I," He winked at Stephen, "Honey?"

His husband snorted with an amused smile, "Don't mind him, Peter."

The teen just shook his head, "You two are impossible. What's for dinner?"

Tony brightened up at that, "Curry but I used Brucie-bear's recipe."

"Uncle Bruce always make the best curry," Peter practically ran towards the sink, "Let's dig in!"

 

* * *

 

They let Peter stay up tonight since there's no school tomorrow. Stephen would have liked to stay and watch Disney movies with Tony and Peter but he was _really_ tired.

The two of them understood and let him retire early for the night. He'll probably just have to make up to them somehow.

Stephen took a quick shower and did his hygienic needs before crawling in the bed. He was ready to doze off when his phone suddenly lit up and vibrated.

He reached for the gadget and sighed when he saw that it was just an email. He was willing to just leave it be for now and take his much needed rest but he saw that it was sent by his colleague, Christine Palmer.

The psychiatrist opened the message and read it. Then he read it again.

Then _again and again._

No matter how much he reread the email, there was no denying that he had read it right and that his mind wasn't playing a trick on him.

Stephen was being appointed as the personal psychiatrist of Steve Rogers.

The mass-murdering psychopath that the FBI caught last week.

_What the fuck?_


	2. Chapter 2

Stephen was aware that he stared at their ceiling long enough for him to see Tony enter their bedroom. He closed his eyes as his husband neared the bed.

He felt Tony lean against him to give his cheek a kiss before the other finally settled down to rest.

The doctor wasn’t sure when his closed eyes remained shut but he didn’t get enough sleep for him to function properly for the day. He did his usual morning routine with the lack of will and energy.

He didn’t dare utter a word about his new patient to Tony in fear of worrying him. He’ll tell him when the right time comes but for now, he’ll handle this own problem.

Stephen bid his husband and son goodbye as he trudges towards his car. The smell of the inside did nothing to ease his nerves.

This is going to be a long day.

 

* * *

 

 

The television and sketches gave Steve Rogers little to no justice regarding his looks.

Stephen could feel his blood pumping faster as his _new patient_ was pushed down on the chair in front of him.

Killer or not, he’s still his patient during their session.

Cold and calculating blue eyes settled on his own and it took every ounce of his energy to stop himself from breaking into cold sweat.

The psychiatrist kept his gaze unwavering as the police officers placed cuffs across the blond’s wrists and ankles. The other seemed unfazed by this.

“The duration of the session will approximately be only two hours every day expect Saturday and Sunday.”

The police who spoke glanced at Stephen and smiled grimly, “Just yell if there’s any problem, doc.”

“I’m sure there’s no need for that.” The psychiatrist’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, “Isn’t that right, Mr. Rogers?”

Something flashed in Steve’s eyes before he hid them behind his eyelids. Stephen wasn’t sure if he should consider this as a win or not.

The smile the blond gave him, however, was sharp enough to make his insides jump.

“Yes, it is.”

The police officers deemed this the perfect time to take their leave. They gave the convict one last long glare, “See you in two hours.”

Then they’re gone.

Stephen could feel both the weight of the tension in the air and the pressure of the situation.

He took his trusty notebook and mechanical pencil from the insides of his pocket.

The head of the institution for the criminally insane hadn’t expressed his displeasure regarding him talking notes about their sessions.

“How are you today, Mr. Rogers?”

His patient gave a low chuckle, “Besides the obvious? I’m doing great.”

Stephen forced himself to nod. This is a good start and he’s hoping it’ll last till the end.

“I’m assuming you’d want to ask me about my background too, huh?”

“It’s part of the procedure, I’m afraid.”

Steve gave the doctor in front of him a once-over then cocked his head to the side, “I suppose I could humor you just this once.”

“The name my parents had given me is Steven Grant Rogers.”

The other kept himself from wincing when his patient’s full name was mentioned. Too bad their names are figuratively close in both spelling and sound.

“I was born and raised in Brooklyn by my mother. My other parent was a bastard unfortunately and so he left us without so much giving us enough money to feed me.”

Stephen started scribbling on his notebook at the mention of his parents.

_Horrible backstory and incomplete parental figures._

No wonder he had chosen his male victims with some sort of terrible record as an abusive husband or neglectful parent. He based it off of his own experience.

The blond stopped talking as he wrote and he was only alerted of this when the room became deathly silent once more.

“Are you a psychiatrist or are you a reporter?”

Stephen allowed his gaze to linger on his patient for the second time that day.

“They hadn’t given me instructions about the information we share during the sessions,” he smiled ruefully, “But trust me when I say that nothing leaves this room.”

Steve mimicked his expression, “Profession at its finest, I see.”

He then let himself relax against the chair but his gaze remained vigilant.

“As I was saying, my father was a scumbag and I’m sure you’re well-aware of how I do broken family the justice they deserve.”

_Has a high possibility of being a Passive-Aggressive Narcissist. Must look for more evidences._

“By killing them, yes I’m well-aware of that.” Stephen couldn’t bring himself to glance up from his notebook as he took down his analysis.

_Has also righteousness mistaken for murder and claims that it’s what his initial goal is._

“You have another idea that you’d like to suggest then?”

There’s a strong underlying tone of sarcasm present in his patient’s voice when he spoke.

**_‘Disguised’_ ** _Hostile Humor. Check._

“Just a few but skipping the sacred rules of morality, I would suggest letting them die in prison. You will be surprised how long an individual can withstand the loneliness before they succumb to it.”

Steve’s interest piped up at this, “Oh? A **doctor** suggesting a method of death? And to think you’re supposed to help other.”

_Guilt-baiting. Check._

“Obviously.” He answered tersely.

_…will probably turn to **blaming**._

“You’re quite interesting. I think this session will be the most enjoyable yet.”

The other didn’t want to ask how his previous sessions had gone by before but there’s no doubt that it won’t be good considering.

He nodded, “I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Rogers.”

Not really.

Firm knocks resounded across the room and Stephen barely tried hiding his relief.

He stood up and went towards the door. The police officers’ faces greeted him once he opened it.

“Good to see you alive and breathing again, doctor.” One of them sardonically said, “Sorry we had to cut the session short. Doctor Schmidt wants to see Mr. Rogers in person for an interview.”

Doctor Johann Schmidt is another well-known psychiatrist – now a psychologist – who’s been handling serial killers and murderers for the past three decades.

He encountered the male a few times before and he seems pretty decent and professional.

“Go on ahead.”

Stephen stepped aside to allow them to enter. His eyes wandered over to his patient and was relatively bewildered by the hostile gleam in his cold blue eyes.

Steve didn’t say anything but the psychiatrist could see how rigid his posture had become. The other’s fists clenched hard and well like he was refraining himself from doing something irrational.

Interesting.

He wrote down Doctor Schmidt’s name on his notebook and added how Steve reacted to it negatively.

“Thank you so much for today. We’ll be seeing you again tomorrow.”

Steve’s face was unreadable when he glanced back up at the trio.

“Just doing my job.” He hopes.

**Author's Note:**

> I made this out of spite because my parents doesn't want me to become a psychiatrist even though that's my dream. I hope you guys enjoyed this!


End file.
